By The Sea
by missDuncan
Summary: Grace and Boyd are away on holiday together for the first time. In a quiet moment, Grace reflects on their relationship. The story is based on a picture of a certain actor on holiday, and was started as a request from Joodiff during last summer – I'm sorry it took me such a long time to finish it.


Happy birthday, Joodiff. Wishing you a lovely day. Enjoy xx 

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Lots of hugs to Got Tea for the beta and her constant encouragement and support. 

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This really isn't her kind of thing, this holiday. Staying on a yacht, anchored up in a picturesquely small harbour in the Mediterranean, she muses, as she gazes languidly out over the azure-blue water around her. Grace reaches for her glass, slowly sipping the sparkling, chilled white wine to cool herself. The view is gorgeous, no doubt about it, and the soft rolling motion of the boat, rocking her to sleep every night in his arms, is just wonderful, but still, it's definitely not her thing.

Different as they are in nature, it's strange that he – normally so physically active, never able to sit still for long – prefers using his holiday to sunbath in the south of Europe with a dip in the cooling sea as the only activity of the day, while she – so much less energetic and definitely much more lazy than him in her everyday life – finds all this inactivity boring, difficult to handle; wishing instead to wander around cities, exploring, studying and discovering historical landmarks, different architecture, and local populations.

But he's entitled to his rest, she muses, placing the glass back on the table beside her again, hardworking as he always has been. She's perfectly able to live with the current idleness and simply enjoy the easy way of life for a week or two. Being away from the office on holiday isn't a thing she can easily remember Boyd doing and he certainly took her by surprise, asking her to join him on a journey to the south. He genuinely shocked her on their arrival in Italy, taking her immediately to the coast, to this little harbour, to lodge on this luxurious boat, ship or whatever the correct word is for this palace on water is. Never in her life had she dreamed of staying in such accommodation. Steady ground under her feet is so much more preferable, but again, whatever he likes she can live with when it provides her with two weeks alone with him.

Keeping their relationship strictly private, not revealing anything to anyone, not even their closest colleagues, she never expected to go on holiday with him and now, after all this time alone together, it's going to be hard to return to hiding their secret from prying eyes and ears, to spending just a few hours alone together here and there around their work commitments. God only knows what will happen on their return to London, when they show up at work again, both nicely tanned, rested and relaxed... It's definitely not a thought she wants to dwell on right now.

Life is good, though, she's definitely enjoying this holiday, relaxing, hardly pondering on anything more serious than the differences between the extreme blue colour of the sky and the deeper shade of the water around the boat, drinking chilled wine in the shadow of a big straw hat, hiding behind her sunglasses during the day and, after watching the gorgeous sunset, walking along the promenade and having the most serious discussion of the day, selecting which of the small rustic restaurants to eat dinner at. A slow stroll back much later, hand in hand, returning to the yacht and sitting close together on deck until late evening, speaking quietly about everything and nothing, sharing gentle kisses from time to time, hands intertwined as they gaze at the myriad of glowing stars before retiring to bed together.

A combination of the light breeze soothingly caressing her skin, the glinting light from the reflections of the sunbeams on the rippling surface of the sea and the gentle rocking of the waves back and forth combined together with the relaxing effects of wine makes her drowsy and her mind starts to drift pleasurable away, not a single serious thought in her head until a sound, mighty as a lion's roar, shatters her peace. Boyd's head, sleek like a seal, breaks through the calm surface of the water before he, with strong, powerful strokes, swims towards the yacht. Reaching up, he takes a firm grip on the ladder, pulling himself up out of the water, climbing to the deck, and, laughing loudly, he shakes his head deliberately, hurling his hair away from his eyes, making the long strands fly and sending cascades of salty cold droplets all over her body before he steps to the edge of the deck again, only to throw himself back into the waves.

It's so lovely watching him like this, she thinks. The sun and the water really suit him, providing him with fabulously tanned skin, and the constant exercising, all the swimming in the sea, really seems to be doing him good.

Automatically reaching to remove her stained sunglasses with her left hand and with her right, snatching the towel beside her, she begins cleaning them, quite used to the repetitive process. Boys are boys, and Boyd definitely enjoys his game at the moment, splashing her over and over again with water. Polished and cleaned again, the sunglasses immediately return to her nose; the light by the sea is far too bright for her eyes.

Within seconds, he appears in the water again, this time reaching up, enclosing both hands around the anchor line, raising his torso up above the surface, exposing his muscular arms and broad, masculine chest for her view – it's a sight she never tires of. Hanging from the rope looking absolutely stunning, with his wet hair glued to his skull, he calls her, inviting her to join him in the water with a cheerful shout. Imitating him, she glances at him over the rim of the glasses, trying hard to keep a stern poker face but failing miserably, her mouth belying her attempt by automatically sending him a happy smile.

Without further consideration, she decides, it's time for her daily dip in the blue deep. Putting her sunglasses and hat down on the table beside the wine glasses she reaches down, her fingertips catching the hem of the short, thin tunic she's wearing as protection against the strong sun, pulling it over her head, an action that immediately triggers a whistle from him. She leaves it on chair before stepping over to the ladder and slowly climbing down, never having been one to jump down, either legs or – God forbid – head first. She'll leave that to Boyd and his exuberance.

Halfway down the ladder, she hears his encouragement, calling to hurry her, totally aware of her fear of swimming in the deep water, with the abyss beneath them where she isn't able to reach the bottom. Gazing over her shoulder, she sees him still hanging from the rope, smiling gently at her anxiety.

Ever so slowly, she continues until the water reaches her waist, only hesitating a moment before leaning back away from the boat, floating in the gentle, slow waves. Immediately sensing his presence she feels skin slide over skin, his muscular arms sneaking under her, behind her back, before a strong big hand settles on her waist, tucking her close as she hears his deep voice whispering, "Relax, I've got you" near her ear. Drifting, half lying upon him, her head resting on his shoulder, she enjoys the moment, feeling his long, limbs rub gently against hers, as he moves them rhythmically, but ever so lazily, through the water.

He's there, ready to make her feel safe, and she adores him for it. He is – even in his late fifties – a boy at heart, fooling around like a fish playing in the water but nevertheless a gentleman... always a gentleman.

It's their final day in this paradise, as they're returning to London tomorrow. She expects he's planning to make tonight extra special. Of course, he will. Wonderful food, superb wine and no doubt lots of romance, more than there's been so far, she's sure. How, she has no idea, but he will. There's no doubt in her mind about it. After dinner, after returning to the boat... Shivers of anticipation rush through her body and he immediately notices.

"Steady now," he whispers close to her ear, pulling her even closer, immediately noticing her trembling. "Relax Grace. Relax and enjoy the moment. Don't think – just feel the water, look at the sky." Linked together, they slowly drift around for a while in the temperate water. Her head resting on his shoulder, his left arm circling her waist, his hand gently caressing her soft skin on her belly through her bathing suit. They don't move much but all the time he's in perfect control, not allowing them to drift too far away from their boat.

"Mmm," he mumbles, his wet beard tickling her ear," I could float around for hours with you in my arms."

A warm feeling of contentment and happiness washes through her. Laughing, she comments, "I really can't stay here that long, I'll be way too wrinkly."

Tucking her closer again, he turns his head slightly, pressing his warm lips to her temple in a lingering kiss and she sighs softly, blissfully happy.

Being alone together for two whole weeks has been amazing; a time she will always cherish and preserve in her heart. After all this time together, her life will never be the same. But no matter what happens she'll always have a picture of him burned into her brain, the sight of him hanging from that anchor line, partly in, partly out of the water and with that wonderful grin on his face never fails to send shivers down her spine.

Sharply dressed in the designer suits he always wears at work, Boyd is so easy to the eye, she thinks, and casually dressed in jeans, too. But this, this new side of him, playing in the water, completely relaxed, happy and dressed in nothing more that a pair of swimming shorts really beats it all.


End file.
